


Steamy Satinalia at the Clinic

by Nymeria_Snow



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Love, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 11:36:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18387653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymeria_Snow/pseuds/Nymeria_Snow
Summary: a smutty chapter from my fic Devotion, altered as one shoot for those who like some Anders/fem Hawke smut and don't care for a long fic. All you need to know storywise before reading - Lyra Hawke and Anders are married and reunited after a long separation.





	Steamy Satinalia at the Clinic

His simple “Come in” sent her heart racing, she pushed the door open...

...and stepped into utter darkness. “Oh bloody socks, Anders?! Where are you?” She scanned the space before her for any signs of light, in vain. “This is not the moment to train your cat-sight!”

A chuckle not far ahead made her jump a little. Oh, why do I feel like a five-year-old playing hide and seek with Carver and his annoying cronies!

“I’m here love, don’t fret, just follow my voice.” And he started to sing some terrible-sounding ditty, very likely in Anderfels.  

**Küss mich!**

**Küss mich!**

**Küss mich nur einmal...!**

(Kiss me

Kiss me

Kiss me just once)

Lyra expected candles, cuddles, calling of his cock, not some crazy cabal. “Anders! This is no joke! I might fall into a pile of shit or trip over something really sharp!”

“Love, don’t be ridiculous, I have no shit here. And the sharpest thing around is my keen sense of humor. Just try to find me.” He resumed his singing with gusto, tapping his boot in the steady rhythm, the lower register of his voice pleasantly raspy and rich. He sure couldn’t play the lute despite his unwavering efforts, however, his singing was quite enjoyable, charming even. The language was strange to her ears, sounding harsh and impossible to pronounce, yet she felt desire and passion, her heart beating faster with every word.

**Ich weiß, ich weiß wie du schläfst;**

**Ich weiß, ich weiß wie du gehst.**

**Meine Säfte bringst du zum Kochen,**

**Ich komm auf allen vieren gekrochen.**

(I know, I know how you're sleeping

I know, I know how you're doing

You boil my juices

I come crawling on all fours)

Threading carefully in the heavy velvet of darkness, Lyra began to feel surprisingly blissful and at peace. The clinic’s unique scent filled her nose and lungs; the sharp and reassuring fragrance of elfroot, pure and delicate crystal grace, a hint of fresh, simple rosemary and lavender, cheap soap and clear water. Lyra missed it so much her eyes became teary, she wanted to carry this familiar fragrance everywhere.      

**Ich weiß, ich weiß wie du riechst;**

**Ich weiß, ich weiß wann du liebst.**

**Durch die Wände wird ich mich recken,**

**Um mich in dir einzubetten.**

(I know, I know what you smell like

I know, I know when you love

I come stretching through the walls

To embed myself in you)

Anders was in his element now, he never fully realized how much he left behind, this funny flirtatious side of himself buried somewhere below Justice. The excitement as he prepared their first romantic evening after such unbearably long dry spell; for the benefit of his woman, to spoil her as she truly deserved made him lightheaded and happy. 

Somehow this old song sprung onto his mind, bringing a wicked grin to his lips. He heard it at the market at the age of ten, sung by an old and shabby wandering minstrel. It settled in his mind, a funny hymn of sorts, coming back whenever he saw someone desirable. Back in the Circle, he shared it with Karl zestfully, they drove the whole Tower crazy, singing it nonstop almost for a month. Karl’s pronunciation resonated in the halls far better than his, thanks to his Anderfels mother.

**Mein Geist schwebt über dir,**

**Du kannst mich retten mit ’nem Kuss von dir.**

**Küss mich...**

   (My ghost hovers over you

You can rescue me with your kiss

   Kiss me…)

“Ouch!” He nearly fell over, as Lyra bumped into his chest hard purely on purpose, after finally locating her husband and using her master stealth skills to take a little revenge. “Woman! You can’t sneak on people like that in the dark!”

“Says the idiot who clearly sold all his lamps for cat bait and Maker knows what blasted needlessness.”

One arm hugged her waist, the other spanked her ass playfully. “Oh, I’m so fortunate to have married such a delicate and mannered noblewoman.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” She needn’t tell him twice; he bent down to her eagerly and the shivers running down her spine intensified. Lyra stood on her tiptoes, in a hurry to meet his wonderfully familiar lips. The pitch black darkness enchanted the kiss, they were not part of this world anymore, floating in a close embrace in the safe and comforting blackness. There was no need for eyesight, they saw each other with their souls. Remembering every curve, wave, crook, peak, even the tiniest ripple of their lover’s body, moving in perfect harmony. Two beings entwined, never to be parted again. Worshipers, believers, lovers. Devouts.       

Anders pulled an inch away from her lips, still lightly grazing them, as he whispered. “Let there be light.”

A soft warm glow chased away the secrets of darkness, an orb the size of an apple hovered just in arm length above their heads, and slowly, one by one, more began to light up, bathing the clinic in twinkling light.

The gentle shine mirrored it Lyra’s green eyes as she looked around, in awe. “This is almost like magic!”

Anders grabbed her and swirled in the air, laughing, his amber eyes warm and full of joy. “You would think? It occurred to me that I might owe you at least one perfect date, a few hours of spoiling my ever so devoted wife.”

Curious, Lyra quickly scanned the spacious room, seeing all the cots lined up along the walls, leaving a vast space in the middle. A large mattress on a few planks covered in blankets and pillows sat there, surrounded by three iron baskets filled with wood which caught fire the moment her gaze lingered upon them. A pleasant warmth spread through the room, the crackling of the fire adding yet another layer of coziness. Her excitement and happiness elevated even to heady bliss, Lyra felt like a spoiled princess indeed.

At last, her eyes returned to the wonder that was her man and she couldn’t resist licking her lips. Anders had shortened his overgrown beard, now it was neatly groomed just an inch from his jawline, the color of dark honey, it suited him well. The usual messy half-ponytail of his hair was still damp, he clearly washed it only a moment ago, few almost dry strands framed his face in pure perfection. Her man was dressed very casually, a thin white shirt opened entirely, leaving his chest bare, tempting her to caress his lean, well-defined body. He replaced his usual leather pants with far more comfortable ones, made of beige linen, loose in fitting. Her shameless man wore them deucedly low, far below his slim waist, the sensual lines of his pelvic V exposed, making Lyra’s fingers twitched with desire to trace them all the way down under the thin fabric. And the obvious absence of underwear; a sweet cherry atop this sweet cake of raw machismo.

“Fuck… you look… well really…”        

“I believe the word you’re searching for is stunning. Or fuckable ?” Anders loved teasing her, another pleasure he missed dearly in those months of separation. The deep breath she took indicated he hit the spot.  _ So now we go, love. _

“Serah Hawke, you have too many clothes on your divine body, may I be so bold and remedy this flagrant folly?” His fingers traced lightly the outlines of her cloak, lingering over the buckle on her chest.

Serah Hawke found her words at last. “Permission granted, anything for the tall, fuckable gentleman.” The heavy traveling cloak flew through the air and landed on one of the nearer cots, followed by a bright girlish giggle, as Anders bowed in a lavish curtsy in front of his woman. “Would my wonderful wife honor me with a dance?”

Raising one eyebrow his wife studied him with suspicion. “She most graciously would, but there’s no music to dance to. You aren’t planning to play the lute, are you?”

Not granting that slightly offensive tease with an actual answer, Anders took her hand and firmly encircled her waist with the other one, pulling her into his frame, her tight leather corset pressed against his naked chest felt so good, he very much appreciated her caged heavily lifting breasts and wildly beating heart.

The tall dark blonde mage began to sway slowly, the petite black haired rogue following his lead with catlike grace, placing her cheek on his chest, taking in his divine scent; a perfect combination of elfroot, sandalwood, fresh parchment and something unearthly that was distinctly Anders. The warmth of his body, the steady beating of his heart, this was her home, her treasured sanctuary. He ran his fingers along her spine, then twirled her around under his arm, catching her, supporting her back and lowering her close to the ground, running his palm over her corset buckles.

**And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways**

**Maybe just the touch of a hand**

**Oh me I fall in love with you every single day**

**And I just wanna tell you I am**

**So honey now**

**Take me into your loving arms**

**Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars**

**Place your head on my beating heart**

Eyes not leaving her flushed face, a light tug on her corset, he begged in a husky whisper. “May I free you, love?”

Lyra deftly unfastened the three buckles in response, tossing the leather corset behind her, and returned into his loving embrace only in his old, worn shirt, her precious spoil from the very beginning of their relationship. They both moaned blissfully at the contact, Anders forgot to sing, the music playing in his head only, his lips busy with sensual kisses. Because of their height difference, he wasn’t able to reach all the crooks and curves that deserved to be worshipped, so he started to dance slowly towards the mattress, moving closer with every sway of his hips while running his needy hands all over her upper body. One hand on the small of her back pushing her into his growing erection, the other cupping her breast, fondling it until his wife moaned and whispered his name with passionate urgency.           

He resumed his singing in a barely audible whisper, not even sure where he left off…

**So honey now**

**Take me into your loving arms**

**Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars**

**Place your head on my beating heart**

**I'm thinking out loud**

**Maybe we found love right where we are**

Anders almost jumped up as Justice suddenly intruded in this intimate moment and requested in a solemn voice;

_ Why are you singing such useless frivolities, you should read her our Manifesto again, so this meeting of yours has a valid purpose! _

Anders fought hard not to roar aloud.  

_ We left copies of the blasted Manifesto all over the house, even in her breastband drawer! How dare you interrupt! We agreed you’ll be quiet, that you let us live for at least a few days! You are the reason I almost killed my wife! Back off! Sofort!* _

Lyra felt him tensed; his back rigid, the grip on her hand intensified. “Anders, what’s wrong? Why have you stopped singing, it was…” She saw an almost imperceptible icy blue line running along his jaw, disappearing behind his ear, he let go of her and just stood mere inches from her, looking trapped in a cage of his own mind, the most private and intimate place of all, plagued with a permanent intruder. Against her better judgment, Lyra addressed the Spirit inside her husband.

“Justice, don’t! Let him live with me, let me love my husband and I will aid you to the best of my ability. I won’t rest until the Circle is broken. I swear.” Her stomach appeared to be full of disturbingly eerie movements, which made her sick. Terrified but determined to reason with the Spirit, guided by an unknown primal instinct, she placed a soft kiss on his nonresponding lips.  _ Oh, dearest, this is so fucked up! _

She pulled away and met his eyes. Icy blue. Sharp. Their gaze stripped her of all protective layers, leaving only a raw core, all her thoughts and secrets unprotected, on display for him. Lyra Amellia Hawke naked as her nameday, being judged by Justice.

Strange coolness ran through her body, she froze on the spot as her heartbeat slowed, yet she heard each thump louder than the previous. Her breath, the rhythmical song of her heart filled every corner of her mind; nothing else mattered. Except for his eyes. Icy blue, though not cold. His somehow strange fingers brushed her lips, slid slowly down to her neck, leaving a tingly line, stopping just above her heart. Lyra felt as if lingering on the threshold of consciousness, surely she would faint any moment now.

_ Anders, where are you? _

His open palm moved up and down with her ribcage, and he leaned towards her, stopping mere inches from her quivering lips.  

_ You are worthy, you are just.           _

Lyra stood tall, legs rooted to the floor of the Clinic, her breathing deep and slow, making her head dizzy. Her bright green eyes locked on the icy blue ones, so strange in the familiar face of her husband. His open palm pressed to her chest. She felt its transcendental touch directly on her heart, Justice held her captive for the moment, his words still echoed in between them, she wasn’t even sure whether he said them aloud or somehow branded them into her mind.

**_You are worthy, you are just._ **

Slowly, with each next heartbeat, the outlandish feelings of fear, excitement and the eerie intimate connection to the unearthly Spirit fell back, and Lyra felt surprisingly calm and safe. Safe in front of Justice, the same and yet so different essence to the vengeful being that tried to kill her at the hands of her beloved man. Now there was peace.

Anders’ hand slipped down her chest, the icy blue orbs hid behind closed eyelids. A sharp inhale widened up his nostrils and raised up his chest. Lyra made a few attempts to speak, her voice strangely uncooperative.  _ Anders, where are you? _

Finally, only in a whisper, she managed to vocalize her question, hoping for Anders’ true lively voice to answer.

“Anders, are you there?”

Gingerly she raised her hands, and placed them over the smooth warm skin on his chest, to feel his beating heart. “Beloved?”

All of a sudden, his hands moved over hers, caressing them with affection. Anders opened his eyes and indeed they were his true warm amber color, hungrily taking in every feature of Lyra’s face. And she felt overjoyed as if seeing him for the first time after a long separation. Looking down into her radiant face, Anders raised her hands to his lips, brushing them over her knuckles, kissing the back of her hand softly, nuzzling his cheek in her palm. He felt relieved and equally guilty. The usual mess.

“Love… I’m so sorry for all this…”

Instead of his wife, Justice spoke to him, a strangely calm, serene voice in his head.

_ Anders, listen. Hawke is worthy, she’s just. She is our ally. I vow not to disturb you henceforth. Be at peace. _

The mage could hardly believe it, after all the fights he and Justice had over his wife, how could this be?

_ Justice, are you fucking kidding me? _

_ Anders, you know I don’t understand the concept. And I can’t act against my very essence, the truth. _

_ Well then… Danke schönn!* _

Anders smiled, wrapping his arms around his wonderful woman, hugging her tight, while kissing the top of her head, whispering into her fragrant hair. “Love, what did you do? Justice is no longer fighting me, he approves of you! But how…?”

Lyra laughed, kissing his bare chest she was so comfortably snuggled in. “Well I just kissed him and let him fondle my breasts!”

“WHAAT?” His voice faltered, this felt so strange and wrong, to know Justice acted for him, talked to Lyra, even touched her with his own hands.

“Anders! I’m kidding! Everything is fine! Dance with me and kiss me… pveddy pveeeease?”

He looked down into her puppy dog eyes, she was so damn cute, pouting her full lips, there was no way he could resist to fulfill her every whim. Oh, fuck Justice! He bent down, scooped her in his arms, growled somewhat comically in answer to her delighted squeals. “I’m so done with dancing, my dear.” Reaching the mattress, he dropped Lyra unceremoniously on the pillows, earning a cascade of giggles.

“Did my better half bring the scented oils?”

“She did, they’re in her coat, you so eagerly tossed away earlier.” Lyra beamed, pondering over the promising scenario.

“Excellent. Don’t you dare move, beautiful!” Anders turned to retrieve her coat as quickly as possible, practically running back to his noble lady, whistling sharply when he saw her.

His noble lady left alone for mere seconds, took the opportunity to strip entirely, she was now resting on the stomach, her mischievously smiling face looking up to him, propped on elbows. The inviting curve of her delicious tushy elevated his heartbeat and made his cock twitch.  _ Wait for it, you dick. _

The blonde mage grinned happily, once again wondering how was it even possible for this woman to love him so. “Love, how come you read my mind?”

“I just made a guess, based on the adorable bulge in your pants. Won’t you take them down to prove I was right?” She licked her lips very slowly, spreading her thighs a bit more, sending a clear invitation to her man.

Anders gulped, his cock twitched eminently in confirmation. “Not just yet, I’ll wait until you beg for it. Now it’s oil - spoil time.” He stepped behind her and settled down, sitting on her thighs just below her tushy. He then reached with his right hand to her head, tickled the side of her neck, earning a blissful moan from his kitten. “Rest now, love.”

With a blithe smile, Lyra snuggled deeper into the soft pillow and closed her eyes to submerge in the darkness, with only the subtle glimmer of the magical orbs creeping in through her eyelids. She wanted to feel every touch of his as sharply as possible, let his velvety voice fill her head and feed the excited butterflies in her stomach.

Anders grabbed the small ornate bottle, pulled out the cork with his teeth and inhaled the sweet fragrance, a mixture of roses, violets, and some more subtly smelling flower he couldn’t identify. With precision he let drops fall down on Lyra’s shoulder blades, and all along her spine, ending on the little cushions of her cute ass. He licked his forefinger and traced all the drops, one by one, making an invisible line on her back, grinning with delight over the slow ripple of her muscles, as Lyra responded to his teasing touch.

More oil on his palms and he began the caress her back, a perfect mixture of healer’s massage and lover’s provocative ministrations. The oil erased all the friction, his hands warm, tingly with a subtle electricity sizzle, gliding with ease over her skin, loosening her stiff muscles, relieving all the long built up tension. He started on her shoulders, the sides of her neck, she always tended to carry her troubles there, eventually making her head hurt. So he let his thumbs work deeper in her muscles, the increased pressure was needed for the absolute laxation.                     

“Oh Andraste’s flaming panties, this is sooooo good. Ahhh, Andersss, we have to break up more often!”

In response to this blasphemy, Anders spanked her right buttock with the perfect amount of force to stir up the exquisite mixture of arousal and elusive pain.

“Evil woman, stop vexing the cougar, or he’ll punish you justly.” Anders made the best account of his loose thin breeches to place his aroused dick in the delightful cleft of her bottom, relishing in the way it moved along the line, following his body, as he worked on Lyra’s back. The friction and pressure made him hiss and sigh for more.

Finally, he reached her bottom, she hummed and rippled beneath his hands, her whole body grateful for every touch and caress. He started to knead her bum, creating more friction for his cock as well, his breathing more labored from the building titillation, sweat began to form on his brow, the loose strands of his hair sticking to his neck.

“Someone has still way too much unnecessary clothing. Drop the pants, silly.” Lyra’s voice was soft and lustful, drunk from all the loving attention she was receiving.

“Hmmm… yep.” Anders stood up, feeling a bit dizzy, shrugged down his breeches and crawled over her on all fours, lowering down on his arms, settling his cock once again in between her buns, kissing the side of her neck, nuzzling his nose in her hair. Knowing very well her shoulders and upper back being strongly responsive to his touches, he branded invisible lines and patterns into her skin with hot passionate kisses, letting the tip of his tongue out between his lips, teasing her further. A small spot between her shoulderblades exceptionally incendiary, his intense kisses left her writhing and begging for more. Lyra lifted her ass slightly, she was ready, craving to be filled by her man, to be taken; to be his.

Anders acknowledged her desire by moving a little lower and positioned his almost painfully aroused dick, so it’s tip was just grazing along her wet entrance, dipping only ever so slightly in the inviting soft warm slit. Lyra made a feeble attempt to move her ass closer, driven crazy by this teasing, desperate to take him wholly inside, squeeze his cock with her inner muscles, so he would scream her name out loud, gasping for breath.

But her man weighed her down with his powerful body, trapping her beneath without any chance for fulfilling her needs. As she complained with incoherent hissing noises, he began to kiss and nibble her earlobe, hot breath on her neck, his hard dick gently teasing her entrance, she was reduced to a lustful, craving, suppliant and mellow form, her mind oblivious to anything but his scent, touches and kisses, the bittersweet torture of unfulfilled primal need.

As if from afar, even though his lips touched her ear, she heard his husky whisper. “Do you want me?”

Lyra bit her lips, knitted her eyebrows, doubled her fists. “Damn it, Anders, YES!!!” His wife was practically sobbing now, utterly under his spell. A kiss between her shoulder blades and he was in, pushing inch by inch deeper, letting her adjust to his strong arousal. Lyra whimpered softly, still not satisfied, she wished he would move more forcefully, to stimulate her sensitive inner walls with more intense contact. “I… need… to move against you.”

Anders took a deep breath to calm down, steadied himself on one hand, grabbed Lyra’s pelvic bone with the other and hoist them both up, so he was straightened up kneeling behind Lyra, holding her bottom tightly, she was on all fours, her upper body just inches from the pillows. She was propped on her elbows, offering her tush to him, waiting for Anders to set the pace. And that he did. Rocking his pelvis forth and back slowly, his dick almost leaving her slick and soft sheath every time, only to push back in deeper and deeper, stretching her, hitting all the right spots, earning lustful moans and whispers from his woman.

“Aaah… faster…” Lyra slammed her ass into him, at the end of her patience, he teased her for too long. She needed her man to lose control and simply race to his orgasm, to stop thinking about her pleasure; she would find her glorious satiation in his.

Anders obliged enthusiastically, quickening his moves, adding force, fingers digging deeper in the flesh of her hips. Although he kept his amber eyes wide open, his gaze became unfocused, his surroundings foggy and meaningless, nothing mattered but the woman before him, taking him in, vulnerable in her true nature, giving him all he had ever dared to dream of and more than he could ever hope for. He closed his eyes, the light a distraction, he as well preferred darkness, to magnify the effect of every touch, move, scent and moan. His hand traced a path from her hip along the line to her loins, reaching the little bundle of nerves, causing Lyra to scream his name loudly, his slightest touch clearly too intense in her twittery state.

So he let his hand follow her side to the armpit, then down along to the forearm she rested her weight upon and reached her right hand finally. Covering it with his own, kneading their fingers together, he guided her in between her thighs, implying he was leaving the throbbing clit to her own fingers.

His wife exhaled sharply, steadied herself on her left forearm, thankful for the training routine that made her muscles tough and strong. As Anders grabbed her hips once more to slam deep into her, she rubbed her touch craving clit quickly and mercilessly, chasing her release, the glorious elusive moment of being shattered into thousands of pieces, the blessed emptiness of mind, the desired détente of all the build up tension in her body.

At this point Anders’ firm belly was glistening with sweat, his abs rippling under the smooth skin, he moaned in a raspy voice, his mouth dry and thirsty but he couldn’t keep it shut. “I love… you… I’m yours… always.” There was no going back, no slowing down, no rest. He needed to go faster, sink deeper, fill her. His woman. His Lyra. Meine.* 

And he came with such intensity, it made him bend his head backward, gasping for breath, wide open eyes blind to the sudden multiple explosions of the small twinkling orbs he had conjured before.

Lyra felt him pulsate in her, hitting the exact spot needed for her to win the chase. For in his satiation she would find hers. And it came. It hit her. She was fucking high.                                                            

Notes:

*Sofort! = In an instant!         

* Danke schönn! = Thank you very much!  

* Meine. = Mine.       

  



End file.
